


It Could Have Been So Easy

by JustPaulInEnglish (JustPaulInHere)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crying, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustPaulInHere/pseuds/JustPaulInEnglish
Summary: Ron is so sick from the stress of the oncoming Quidditch match that he desesperately need something to focus on. Anything. Even a crying Malfoy in an empty bathroom.Ron is so sick of seeing Ginny and Harry so happy together that he desesperately need something to focus on. Anything.... but mostly a Malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 112
Collections: Ron/Draco Fest - Better Together





	1. Of Friends and Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first participation to this fest and I hope my work will pleases you. I'm not a native speaker so, despite my beta, there might still be some strange things in my work.  
> And so, I have to thank my dear beta, Amaras.

His head was spinning, and he felt nauseous. He knew he had to think about something else, but Ron kept daydreaming about the next Quidditch encounter. He saw quaffles flying around him; he heard the raging screams coming from the spectators. Slytherin was winning, and he was pitifully falling from his broom as bludgers broke his ribs and his arms…

The thought of it made him want to throw up.

“Ron, you should really go to see Mrs Promfrey. Harry!” Hermione called. “Could you accompany Ron to the fourth floor on your way for the Great Hall?”

“Yes,” Harry sighed.

Ron was a bit sad his best mate wasn’t more helpful, but he couldn’t be mad at him. Harry had too much on his mind lately. He was very obsessed with Malfoy, and the war. He spent too much time plotting with Dumbledore, and worrying about the bad news coming from The Daily Prophet. Ron was uneasily walking, but they managed to reach the seventh floor without a problem.

“This isn’t the way to the hospital wing,” commented Ron, “nor the Great Hall.”

“I just wanted to check something,” said Harry with the Marauder’s map open in his hands. He was looking for something, and Ron knew exactly what: Draco Bloody Malfoy. Harry was completely obsessed with the Slytherin brat.

Ron patiently observed his friend. He could focus on something else than the oncoming match, so it was perfect. Suddenly, Harry flinched. He surely had spotted something unusual.

“He’s in a bathroom, right downstairs,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, Ron had been watching him. Harry was so focused on his map he was walking head first into a suit of Armour. Ron caught him by the sleeve of his black uniform.

“What?”

“You’re so obsessed with your map you nearly ran into big trouble with Flinch.”

“Errr… thank you. You seem to feel better.”

Ron eyed Harry suspiciously, his friend had something on his mind.

“You want to spy on him, don’t you?”

Harry shook his head in agreement, and it was Ron’s turn so sigh.

“Alright, I’ll go with you.”

They quickly stumbled downstairs, to the boy’s bathroom. Without a sound, they approached the door and listened to what was happening inside. Malfoy and Moaning Myrtle were having a little discussion.

The door was slightly ajar, and Ron watched as Harry pushed the door open. They could hear more clearly what was being said. Ron pressed his body against Harry’s, he wanted to see what was happening as well.

Draco was standing before an old sink, his body trembling. Myrtle seemed very preoccupied, her high-pitched wail being near unbearable.

“Tell me what’s wrong…”

Harry was coming closer, the door fully open now.

“I can help you.”

None of them had seen Harry yet, but Ron could see the very near future unravelling before his eyes. Malfoy was clearly unwell, the trembling in his body… He was deeply upset, crying alone, far away from the Slytherin’s usual hangout.

Malfoy would certainly not like to see the both of them behind his back. Harry was running into big troubles with Snape. _Bloody blind Gryffindors._

“No one can help me,” was saying Malfoy.

Ron stepped forward, and put his hand in front of his friend, stopping Harry’s movement. Ron silently moved until he was in front of Harry, and raised his hands in the air, palm wide opened for Draco to see, should he turn around.

“I can’t do it… I can’t… it won’t work… and unless I do it soon… he says he’ll kill me…” They had never seen their nemesis like that.

Malfoy finally looked up into the mirror and saw his two best enemies in the reflection. He turned around as fast as lightning, his wand in his hand. Ron could feel Harry shuffling behind his back trying to get his wand too. 

He locked his eyes with Draco’s. Ron suddenly wondered : in his current position, was he preventing Harry to throw a spell at Draco, or was he rather preventing the opposite ?

“Harry, get out of the bathroom,” ordered Ron.

“But…”

“Now!”

Harry was staring confusedly at him, but obeyed at last. He did not turn his back as he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“What do you want, Weasel?” snarled Draco. His posture was still aggressive, but Ron could still see his reddened eyes, and the wetness on his jaws.

“I don’t want anything.”

Ron moved froward and Draco had to take a step backwards. Draco could have jinx him, but his hand was trembling.

“Get out of here!”

“I don’t mean to harm you.”

Their eyes were still locked, and Ron could see the panic written on the Slytherin’s face. His back was pressed to the sink, he couldn’t retreat any more.

“You need help, Draco…”

Ron, who could remember some bits of his Care for Magical Creatures lessons, moved with great care. His every movement were slow, until he was pressed against the blond, and his arms were around him.

Shock was now painted on Draco’s face, at being hugged by a Weasley.

“You make no sense,” he exhaled. But Ron could feel him relaxing in this strange embrace. Draco finally turned and broke their stare contest and pressed his forehead to the Gryffindors shoulder.

— O —

Harry, who had been kicked out of the bathroom, now stood awkwardly in the empty corridor. He had still his wand in his hand, and thousand questions spinning in his head. He felt bloody stupid standing here with nothing to do.

What was Draco up to? Why had Ron asked him to get out?

A movement on his right pulled him out of his reverie. A dark shadow was looming over him.

“Mister Potter, may I enquire about your presence here? Shouldn’t you be going to join the dinner in the Great Hall, rather than training to perform as a living statue? Or maybe you finally have seen your talent for magic as what it really is and decided to perform in the streets of London as a living?”

Harry was seething inside, but greeted his teeth.

“The bathroom his occupied,” he replied. “Sir.”

Snape eyed him suspiciously. Harry was no legilimens, but he could sense the “I know you’re up to something” coming from Snape.

The professor pushed past him and opened the bathroom door. Harry, who had been imperturbable until now, craned his neck out of sheer curiosity.

The sight before them was the most troubling. Ron was pressed to Malfoy in a comforting embrace, murmuring soothing words while petting his head. Malfoy had clearly resumed crying. His head was hidden against the Gryffindor’s torso, but his body was trembling heavily and they could hear his sob and gasps.

Snape closed the door without a sound.

“Well… you see? It’s occupied.”

Snape eyed him, dumbfounded.

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter, there is another bathroom on the 6th floor. Tell me what happened in here?”

Harry played his most innocent facade, genuinely, until Snape took 10 points from Gryffindor for “being the most stupid brat”.

— O —

Ron could feel a cold wetness though his shirt where Draco was weeping. He tried to convince himself there were only tears and Malfoy was not wiping his nose as well…

Finally, the hug ended, and Draco turned to wash his face in the sink. His eyes were puffy and red.

“Thank you… I guess,” he said with clear unease.

“You’re welcome,” answered Ron. “You know, it’s not that I want to make fun of your masculinity, but I learned how to comfort people with my little sister. I had to protect her from five older brothers...”

Draco gave him a very serious look, as if he didn’t care. And it was certainly true, thought Ron: he didn’t care.

“Listen, you have problems, it’s obvious. From what I heard…” Ron could clearly remember something around the line of _he’s going to kill me_. “You can’t manage alone.”

Malfoy said nothing and crossed his arms. He was back to normal, a brat annoyed by everything happening around him.

“You have to find someone who can help you. Someone you can talk to. Your secret will soon make you suffocate if you do nothing.”

There was no reaction coming from Malfoy, but after a while, he walked passed him and got out of the bathroom. Ron could have sworn he had heard a “thank you”.


	2. Of Codes and Letters

“Draco… why is Weasley staring at you like that?” asked Blaise.

They were eating breakfast in the Great Room, and that stupid Weasel was eyeing him with so much concern painted on his face Draco thought for a moment there was an injured little bird or kitten right behind him.

“It’s nothing, Blaise. Just dumb Gryffindors being dumb Gryffindors.”

Draco stopped eating, though, and took a piece of parchment out of his bag. He sent a short note to Ron, enchanted so that no one else than Ron could read it.

— O —

“I know something happened yesterday evening,” said Hermione. “We’ve been together, the three of us, for long enough, don’t you think? I know when you’re hiding something. So, answer me: what happened?”

Harry and Ron exchanged a quick look, before resuming eating — though Ron had not much of an appetite because of the oncoming Quidditch match.

“It’s nothing, Hermione, lied Harry.”

An enchanted note suddenly hovered before Ron’s face, and both Harry and Hermione eyed it suspiciously. Ron read the note.

_What’s your problem, Weasley? Stop staring at me._

“I guess it comes from Slytherin, said Hermione.” She had read the note, without him noticing, and Ron quickly hide it though it was too late already. “They are very clever, really! _You’re a looser Weasley! You’ll be the end of Gryffindor!_ They do not even try to be creative now,” sighed Hermione.

Ron had to hide his smile, it was clever indeed.

— O —

“ _You forgot Gryffindors have a real advantage: we’re not feeling any pain on our forearms, us._ ” read Blaise out loud, rolling his eyes. “This is so low I’m surprised he made no comment on your mother.”

Draco, on the other hand, was following a much different line of thought. He eyed the people gathered in the Great Hall, looking for someone he could trust. He might trust his fellow Slytherin, but he feared they would not be able to help him in any way, and he couldn’t trust anyone else.

There wasn’t anyone…

Except… maybe…

The Professor Snape had seen their little note exchange and was now watching him with a suspicious frown. Draco thought he could try that and crumbled the note into his pocked.

_Have you talked to someone? Anyone? Has anyone ever offered to help you?_


	3. Of Choices and Acts

A younger Ron would have thought all his dream had become reality.

The current Ron had other things in mind, though. They had won the match, alright, it was great. They had had a great party, and it had been fun. What had begun as a very intense and stressful day had become as blurry and fantastic as a dream.

But his sister was dating his best mate. He was still worried about Malfoy. And there was still a war raging outside of the castle’s walls.

Ron knew there was nothing he could do about the war, except giving all the support he could to Harry. And so, he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t do much about his relationship with Ginny.

Ron was left feeling useless as he wandered in the castle’s corridors. He couldn't stay around the Gryffindors without feeling bad about his sister or about Hermione’s relentless revisions.

It was a bright afternoon, and the coming month of June would certainly be very warm. Ron was bathing in the sunlight, lying on the ground of the Transfiguration Courtyard. There was a bunch of younger girls gossiping on a bench, on the other side of the huge apple tree that grew in the middle of the court. Ron had his head protected from the sun by the shadow its leafs… He was feeling so good.

Suddenly, he heard the faint and familiar grating of a portrait opening the pathway to its secret passage. Ron straighten up and glanced with curiosity at  a portrait  representing  a bunch of fat wizards.

He had never thought there could be a secret passage here, but it was not the most interesting thing he had to see. Draco Malfoy was coming out of it, and their gaze met for a moment.

Ron jumped to his feet and joined up with the Slytherin, there was no one around to see them.

“Malfoy! Wait! Did you follow my advice?” asked Ron.

Draco quickly check their surroundings.

“Yes,” he answered curtly.

Ron gave him a big smile and put a hand on his shoulder, wishing he could have an excuse to hug him once more.

And then, Ron gulped. He realised this could mean anything. Draco could as well have found help from one of Voldemort’s follower, as from the Light. Ron remembered each and every suspicion Harry had had this year. It was more likely to be the first one.

“Can I- Can I ask you where you found this help?”

Draco averted his eyes.

“No.” 

Ron thought he could hear regret in his tone, but it must have been his imagination. He wanted to be mad at Malfoy, to jinx him right here, right now, yet he was still hopeful. Ron could only feel deception, and no anger.

“Listen, Weasley. I can’t tell you anything… but maybe…” Draco had a slight crease on his forehead. Ron could sense he was still lost somehow, but he was also both determined and worried.

“Tonight, please, forget you’re a Gryffindor. Stay in your Common Room. Please.”

Draco seemed quite desperate and left a dumbfounded Ron in his wake.

— O —

Ron spent what was left of the day musing about Draco’s words, of course. Tonight would be no normal night, for sure. He knew Harry had a meeting with Dumbledore. What would happen? What should he do?

Should he trust Draco?

“Ron!” called Hermione. “Could you please stop pacing back and forth? Some people here in this Common Room are trying to concentrate on productive things!”

“Sorry Mione…” he mumbled.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she demanded.

Ron half wanted to resume pacing before answering to her. Instead, he sat on a nearby chair and closed his eyes, feeling much more tired all of a sudden. The curfew would be in  a handful of  m inutes …

“Are you worried about Harry? Let me tell you it’s pointless: I’m sure we can trust Dumbledore. Nothing bad would happen to him tonight.”

“It’s not even about that,” said Ron. He sighed. He should tell her the whole story. “It all began a few weeks ago…” Ron opened his eyes and stop talking abruptly. He could see it, there, in the sky, a green light. It wasn’t there a moment ago, he could swear. He remembered the tales of his youth, the nightmares his brothers had told at night to scare him. He remembered the sick light in the sky, during the Quidditch World Cup final match a few years ago.

“Blimey.”

Ron ran to the boys' dormitory, and accio’d the Marauders’ Map. “Isol’mnlyswearthatI’muptonogood!” The map must have understood he was in quite a hurry, because it instantly flashed before his eyes without its usual slowness.

“Malfoy… where is that bloody Malfoy…”

Ron spotted the Slytherin, as well as other gloomy  name tags . He tumbled back in the Common Room. “Hermione! No one should leave the Common Room, you hear me?” said Ron while crossing the threshold of the Fat Lady.

— O —

It could have been the worst night of his life, realised Draco. It could have been the night he had killed Dumbledore. It could have been the night Death Eaters entered Hogwarts’ Castle to kill and injure students and staff members.

On such a night, he would certainly have been totally panicking.

Instead, tonight was a theatre. The Castle would be their stage. Everything was settled, and he only had to play his role. Tonight would be the night he made the good choice, the night he did what was right.

He closed the Room of Requirement’s door behind his back and sent a note to Snape. They would only have to wait for Dumbledore to come back, now. The other Death Eaters were already looking for him.

Draco heard footsteps, someone was running in the corridor. He drew out his wand, ready for whatever was about to come his way, and ended up facing a dishevelled Ron Weasley with a strange map in his hand, and his wand equally ready for a fight.

“What is happening, Malfoy?” spat the Gryffindor. “Did you played a role in all this?”

“I told you to stay in your bloody Tower! Is that another one of your Gryffindor traits? Bravery, determination, and sheer inability to follow any order?”

Ron answered by casting a spell in his direction, and Draco had to dodge quickly. He heard a sound in his back and turned around.

“Someone is coming. Weasley, you must hide!” Draco pushed the Gryffindor to some dark and hidden alcove where they would be safe and cast a silence spell.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

A dark hooded figure walked past them in the corridor, its face hidden by a white, grim mask.

“I wanted to protect you, I wanted you to be safe…” Draco’s voice was but a murmur, tinged with regret. He turned his head to Ron, but the young man was still seething.

“You wanted me to be safe? And what about the other students?”

Everything was still in the castle, the night seemingly waiting for the coming dark events to unfold. The darkness was so calm that Draco suddenly realised he would not be the same in a few moments. He would not be able to remain a child anymore… But so maybe, he had lost the ability to be a child months ago.

Yet, he could do anything right now. He was left with a few moments of freedom and insouciance.

“I must thank you. I followed your advice, and looked for help.”

“And you lead Death Eaters into the Castle! What is wrong with you?”

“I went to Dumbledore, alright? Calm down, you Weasel!”

Ron’s surprise was painted on his face. “I needed a bit of your bravery to do so—” Draco’s admittance was cut off as Ron throw himself to the Slytherin, his arms hugging him tightly.

Draco discovered he needed the strange affectionate gesture. He hugged the Gryffindor back. “Thank you.”

Ron finally released him. “So, can you tell me what is happening tonight?”

“I don’t really know. They don’t trust me, actually,” explained Draco. “No one should be harmed, that’s all I know.”

While he said these words, Draco saw a darker shadow contrasting on the night sky. Someone was coming, flying on a broom. According to the plan, it must be Dumbledore.

“Is it a trap? A huge scheme designed by Dumbledore to capture all of these Death Eaters?” asked Ron.

Draco gulped. He realised he couldn’t tell the truth to the Gryffindor.

“I’m sorry.” Draco said.

_Stupefy,_ he thought.

Ron collapsed against the alcove’s wall with a surprised expression on his face, and Draco left him there, and went to the Astronomy Tower.

His heart was filled with regrets. He had done what had to be done.


End file.
